from the as-it's-always-been dept

The original copyright law, the Statute of Anne, went into effect 300 years ago. And its purpose was not to protect content creators at all, but to protect the middlemen -- the printers. Little has changed since then, but you wouldn't know it to hear those middlemen talking about how much they're speaking up for the interests of content creators. As our recent posts on both RIAA accounting and Hollywood accounting have shown, these "industries," that claim to represent content creators' interests, work pretty damn hard to screw content creators out of receiving money.

The good news, however, is that more and more people are realizing this. Copyright is not about protecting creators' rights, but giving middlemen more power, and a recent panel discussion involving music industry insiders and lawyers suggests that at least some are coming to terms with this:

The "biggest flaw in music is not copyright, it's business practice," said attorney and lecturer Ben Challis. Business practices that shift rights from the author or song writer to companies are the reason that artists do not get paid, he added. A fair regime would protect artists as well as the corporate side, he added.

Copyright has "shown itself for what it truly is," said Kienda Hoji, an entertainment lawyer and senior lecturer at the University of Westminster. It is a system that benefits those who want to make money, not the creators who deserve to, he said.

Of course, that's been true for... well... about 300 years now. Isn't it about time something was done about it?

from the ditch-the-monopolies dept

I love middlemen. Yes I do! Most indie filmmakers I talk to complain about distributors and "middlemen," but they're missing the real problem. Middlemen -- publishers, distributors, resellers -- can do excellent work. The problem is not middlemen; it's monopolies.

So many middlemen insist on monopolies, we've forgotten we don't need to grant them. They say that without a monopoly (aka "exclusive rights") they have no incentive to promote and distribute. Actually a monopoly gives a middleman no incentive, because no one is competing with them. Take away the monopoly, and the middleman has to compete with other potential middlemen (including the artist). Then they have an incentive to work. Rather than monopoly, they succeed on the basis of expertise (theatrical distributors already know how to track, ship, and manage prints), innovation (finding better ways to meet customers' existing desires and identifying new ones), and quality.

I'm very happy with the middlemen I work with. FilmKaravan, who distributes Sita Sings the Blues on DVD, promoted and placed DVDs in outlets and markets I was too lazy to reach. (They out-competed me, which is great!) GKids, who distributes the film theatrically East of the Mississippi, manages the prints professionally, finds great new venues for it, and promotes it cleverly without overspending. These middlemen do their jobs very well, and I'm grateful for the services and value they add to the film. They have my non-exclusive Endorsement.

I'm only unhappy with one middleman, an overseas distributor who uses their monopoly to block access to the film rather than facilitate it. For example, a professional conference held by their country's national television company, and attended by important players in the film industry there, sought a one-time conference screening of Sita, but the distributor refused to lend the local print. Lending it would have helped the film tremendously, but the distributor was focused on immediate money instead of on the long-term good of the film. Because I had foolishly granted this distributor an "exclusive endorsement" in their territory, there was no one else in a position to lend a print. (What distributor would take up a film knowing that the filmmakers' imprimatur had already been granted to a competitor?)

My endorsement wasn't a mistake. I want that distributor to make money, and lots of it! But endorsing exclusively was a mistake: although not as bad as copyright, it's still a kind of monopoly, and monopolies invite abuse. That is their nature. I now know that to get good work from a middleman, I can't grant them a monopoly. They need to feel that if they let an opportunity slip by, another middleman may jump at it. Business competition improves business performance; some say it's an essential incentive.

Middlemen will only have monopolies if artists keep granting them. They're not going to give them up on their own. It falls on us artists to simply refuse to grant these monopolies in the first place. A copyleft license sends a clear, simple, and non-negotiable message to middlemen that they need to innovate and compete to profit from the work. Only we artists can supply the incentives they need to do their jobs well; and we can only do that by refusing monopolies.

A middleman without a monopoly is a great help to art and artists. Rather than abusing monopolies, they provide valuable services. The better they are at providing services, the more successful they become. Competition keeps middlemen on their toes, and eliminates the lazy and incompetent. Monopoly does the opposite.

from the keep-it-simple-stupid dept

David Pogue quotes an interesting reader email about why high-tech consumer products are so often bloated and poorly designed. It points out that when large companies design a product, they tend to be overly focused on adding lots of complex features in order to put "more check marks in more boxes" on comparison charts and impress reviewers. That raises the price of the product and can often confuse novice users. But in the old days when software was sold in a box at Best Buy, it was hard to avoid this fate because the overhead of producing, distributing, and marketing the software required charging a high price and sucking up to reviewers. The web has eliminated a lot of overhead and allowed an entrepreneur to put his product directly in the hands of users without going through a lot of middlemen. That shifts the marketplace in favor of small, lightweight, easy-to-use software.

Software that would never have been judged serious enough to put in a box and sell at Best Buy can now carve out a niche in the market by appealing directly to customers. And that's a good thing because comparison charts are often a lousy way to judge software. For example, the original Google search engine would have stacked up poorly in comparison charts against larger rivals like Yahoo! that were rapidly transforming themselves into "portals." But Google was a lot better at the one feature that really mattered: search quality. They had trouble convincing the titans of the web to buy their search technology, but luckily they could just put it on the web and let the customer try it. As more and more software migrates to the web, it's likely to result in more responsive and higher-quality software.